


Remembrance

by notnowcommander



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3692514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notnowcommander/pseuds/notnowcommander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After surviving waves of geth, and Saren, and Cerberus, and the Reapers, the last thing Shepard wants to learn is that time doesn't always heal old wounds, and sometimes, instead they come back to hurt you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

The first time Shepard noticed something was wrong was during a Spectre meeting. The Turian councilor had shifted the discussion for the remainder of the meeting over to Kaidan, to talk about the strides they’d made in the Biotics Division, and the new programming at Grissom Academy. 

First, he didn’t respond immediately, a somewhat dumbfounded look on his face, as if he hadn’t been paying attention. And then when he reached for the stylus pen in front of him, it took him roughly six tries to grab it. And then when he looked down at the data pad in front of him, he could not form words for the life of him. He cleared his throat twice, and looked up.

“I apologize, councilors. Could we push this off another week?” he said, his voice cracking.

Next, it was the near constant walks around the Citadel going nowhere, with no reason, and how even when Shepard joined him, there was a silence, and an even more overwhelming confusion from both of them. But she learned to hold his hand and follow him wherever he took her because that was what she needed.

The last straw was waking up in the middle of the night in tears, terrified that “they” were going to do something to him, that maybe his implant wasn’t for his biotics. Shepard never learned who “they” were. She just lulled him back to sleep and promised him that she’d keep him safe, no matter what. It was the truth. But what was even more the truth was that she was terrified.

***

Shepard sat outside in the patient lounge in Huerta Memorial and waited for something, anything. It had been quite some time that Kaidan had been back there. Several people came over to her and greeted her, asking if everything was alright and what brought her to Huerta Memorial. She didn’t know how to put it without scaring people. She didn’t want to tell people that her boyfriend was slowly deteriorating, that some mornings he didn’t remember who he was, and it took him a couple extra seconds to remember who she was. How did she easily tell people that the Second Human Spectre, one of the most powerful human biotics in the galaxy was losing his mind?

Moments later, Kaidan stepped out of the inpatient and examination wing and came back over to her. He didn’t speak, but instead took her hand and slid an arm around her back. She didn’t have to ask. Instead, he whispered, “We have to talk”, and ushered her into a SkyCar back to the apartment.

***

Chronic Dementia. That’s what the doctors called it. It was the closest thing they could find to describe what was happening to him. All they knew was that his mind was falling apart, and that hallucinations and delusions were becoming far more Shepard wished it was something she’d never heard of before, something she couldn’t equate to anything else, but no. The doctors said the cause was probably a combination of relatively dormant damage done in utero, yet triggered by the accident on Mars. At first, Shepard just shook her head and said that was impossible. It had been years since Mars. If something were to happen, it would have happened ages ago. Not now, not now that they finally got to be happy. They damn earned it, and deserved better than this.

“Shepard…” he said, his voice low, but she could sense that he was being brave for her. He’d helped her through recovery after recovery and looked out for her no matter what, yet there was not a single thing she could do to protect him from this. She couldn’t even make it better for him.

“There’s got to be something we can do. They brought me back from the dead. Like hell if I’ll let this happen to you. We could talk to Miranda, Doctor Chakwas. Someone will have some solution. Kaidan, I’m not letting go of you that easily.”

He gave her a tear-filled smile and took her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his body, tightly, hoping to leave the impression on him so that he’d remember it, so that he’d remember her. She knew very little about how it worked, if he’d lose his memory at all. She knew though, that he’d begin having more delusions and hallucinations, his entire life would change, and their life together would never be the same. 

“You’ve got me,” he said, “always have and always will.”

She nodded, and held him tighter.

***

Doctor Chakwas visited regularly. She came each week to track progress and damage. However, as Shepard sat there and watched helplessly, she observed that there was more damage than progress. There was no way to counteract the effects of the disease, but she hoped they could push it off for as long as possible.

Days after the diagnosis, she and Kaidan had talked for hours about what it meant, but she didn’t feel like any progress was made there either. He continued to tell her that it wasn’t terminal. That this wasn’t going to kill him, that he’d fight whatever it was to stay himself. No amount of delusions or hallucinations would take him from her. She’d nodded complacently, willing to accept whatever time they had together. She didn’t want to spend their last few months, or however long it was complaining and mourning him when he was still here. 

One week - however - Doctor Chakwas pulled her aside as Kaidan stepped out of the room to take a call with Admiral Hackett. Nobody else really knew about it, aside from the three of them and Hackett, but even he kept it under wraps. Kaidan was still fit to work. Enough medication had made him a fully functioning person most of the time, and sometimes Shepard hardly noticed the difference. And then it hurt her even worse when something happened, when things slipped through the cracks.

“Commander, there is something we should talk about.”

Shepard swallowed. “I know. He won’t tell me how bad it is.”

Doctor Chakwas brought her hand to her jaw and sighed. “By definition, his disease is not terminal. He’s right about that, but truth is, his mind is deteriorating at a rate that is inconsistent with what he’s diagnosed with. But we’re looking at a couple of months.”

Shepard wrapped her arms around her body and tried to come up with air, but nothing worked. They’d faced down waves and waves of geth, Cerberus troops, Reapers, even, and survived. And if he’d died in battle, it would have been crushing, to say the least, but something about this felt so wrong. So wrong that she wanted to throw up and never stop crying. But nobody could see her do that. All she knew was that just a few hairs over forty wasn’t an acceptable age for him to die at.

“Doc, there has to be something we can do. I… I can’t let this happen to him,” she choked out.

The doctor pulled her into a hug and let her collapse into her shoulder. Part of Shepard doubted this was really happening. When she’d woken up after the war, with Kaidan sitting beside her, tears welling in his eyes to see her awake and alive. She knew that there was still work to be done, but she had him, and they had a future. But now, it felt like a punch in the gut to think about.

“Shepard. The best thing you can do for him is to help him. He doesn’t know yet how much he’s going to need you.”

***

Chakwas was right. It came weeks later as they were trying to leave the apartment to head out to a meeting. Shepard urged Kaidan out of the bathroom where he’d been fixing his hair for nearly forty-five minutes. They were running late and it took a couple of tugs at his arm to get him out the door. He followed her, and a few steps from the door, he stopped moving.

She turned around and went to him, placing her hands on either side of his face. “Hey, come on. We’ve got to go.”

He didn’t respond, just blankly looked back at her in an unfamiliar way that felt like a rainstorm of bullets. 

“Kaidan… baby, come on,” she coaxed. “Okay, here. I’ll go get the SkyCar and come back in. Take your time.”

She felt his hands curl around her wrists, tightly and she felt the familiar twinge of his biotics against her skin, and she immediately feared the worst. Kaidan knew himself. He knew to never lose control. But when he had no control of his mind, what could he do? And before she could stop him, she felt herself collide with the closest wall. The blow didn’t hurt, but the shock of the barrier bursting against her stunned her for a moment.

And when she regained control of herself, she saw Kaidan was on his knees, fists clenched at his side and breathing erratic. She bent down with him and picked his head up. 

“Hey, hey, you’re alright. Relax,” she whispered, pulling him against her body. 

“Shepard, I… I did that.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t mean it. I know you didn’t. It’s okay. I promise you. I’m fine. See? Look.”

He didn’t look up and let several tears fall from his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if I hurt you or not, Shepard. It’s not about that. I spent more than twenty years trying to keep myself together and not lose control, and here we are. I can’t control myself.”

She cradled his head in her shoulder, and felt as he situated himself better in her arms. His warm tears burned at her skin and just feeling him break down made every deepest part of her ache. She kissed the side of his head and leaned up against the wall with him in her arms. Anything she said to him would have been a lie at this point. He was losing control, no matter how hard he fought against it.

“Shepard, I…” he struggled out, “I don’t want to die. Not like this.”

She held him tighter, but kept her own tears back. Not in front of him. He’d been so brave for her, all these years, and he needed her. And she would never let him down. Not now.

“Kaidan, I won’t let you die. I won’t.”

“There isn’t anything you could do to stop it, Shepard. There are mornings where I don’t remember who I am, or who you are. I look down at you and I can’t figure out who is in bed with me for a few moments. I need you.”

She nodded. “You’ve got me. Always have and always will.”

***

One night - three and a half months later - both of them refused to sleep. It had been an unusually good day. Kaidan had only lapsed into two hallucinations that day, and they weren’t even super hard to shake him out of. At this point, he spent most of his days in bed or on the couch, trying to fit the pieces of his life together long enough to do something.

“Shepard,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Yeah?” she replied, turning over to hold him.

“It’s getting closer. I can’t… I can’t keep running from it. Today was the first day in weeks that I remembered who you were all day long. I never stopped and looked at you in confusion to try and figure out who you were or why you were here. And as far as I know, any day could be the last day that happens.”

“I know,” she whispered. 

“I want one night where it’s just me and you. One final night where I can be me, and love you the way I always did. Where nobody is dying, nobody will forget it. Just give me that.”

She glanced over at him in the dark, seeing the glossy coating over his eyes, and how he pleaded with her to just forget everything around them and be the people who they’d been for years now, happy and in love. She moved closer, her hands coming to the side of his face. 

“I can do that.”

She pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He held her waist carefully and turned her over, his arms circling around her. She drew her hands down his body and across his bare chest as he pulled her t-shirt - well, his t-shirt really - over her head. She kissed him harder, drawing him nearer and nearer to her, breathing him in because she knew this could have been the last time.

His hands moved to the elastic of her underwear and carefully eased them down her body. As he did so, she tried to do the same for him, but their hands collided and they ended up more tangled than they were before. He let out an infectious laugh she hadn’t heard in weeks. It was pure and free and it pulled the same response from her.

“Sorry I punched you,” she giggled.

“Any time, love,” he replied, his lips resting just below her ear. 

The faint giggles and unabashed smiles continued, as he kissed his way down her body, leaving few spots untouched, and as she dug her nails into the bare skin of his back, and when the flare of his biotics, equal parts controlled and untamed, sent ripples through the most ticklish parts of her. 

After, she curled up against his chest and kissed the several birth marks along his chest and told him each time how much she loved him. She heard his breathing deepen, a pleased smile across his face. She wasn’t sure if he could feel it or if he had any clue what was going on, but she continued to whisper how much she loved him, even long after he was asleep.

***

Shepard hated funerals. She had to assume most people did. But after her family and after her countless friends, she’d been dreading the next one she’d have to go to. But she was never expecting it to be Kaidan’s. Not yet, at least. When she thought of his funeral, the only thing that she could think of without the utmost amount of dread, was something forty years from then, where she - in her old age - would stand in front of everyone to give a eulogy that was hardly anything other than “I don’t know how I didn’t kill him after all this time”, or something equally as aggressive. And she would have been at peace with that because she doubted that death would be far away from her at that point as well.

But what she hated more than funerals was what came after - after you were done mourning and celebrating the life of someone you loved, where you had to go back to living your normal, every day life without the person you cared about most in the world.

It left her in front of a closed casket, because there was no body. In three days, she’d be heading to Vancouver to spread the ashes across English Bay where his mother still lived. They’d be going back together, but even looking at her still hurt now. Because as hard as it was for Shepard to lose him, she had no idea how anyone could fathom laying their only child to rest. 

She looked down at the the tearstained paper in front of her. She’d never been very good with words, and her speeches for the crew were mostly improvised and aggressive. Something that would make her sound cool and inspire people, but now, she had nobody to be strong for but herself. She folded the page of the eulogy up and placed it inside her jacket pocket.

“Kaidan? God,” she said, “you know I hate this sappy shit. I hate being sad and dwelling on things, but being without you is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t know how to cope with it just yet. I keep expecting to find you with me in bed or smell something incredible as hell coming from the kitchen each morning. I just wish we had gotten more time because this isn’t fair. But uh… I don’t want you to worry about me because if I know you, somehow, you’re probably still looking out for me.”

She broke a faint smile and wiped her eyes. “Who am I kidding? You’d be worried anyway. But I’m gonna make you a promise, and I swear I won’t break it, not like the other promises I’ve broken. Our baby’s gonna have a good life, and he or she is going to know how god damn amazing you were. And so will the rest of the galaxy because you deserve it, and you deserved better. I love you, always will.”

She stood up, brushing off the simple dark dress she hated to have to wear and rested a hand on top of the casket. She knew there was nothing there, and that he was gone, and the pain was so raw and fresh inside her that she thought the aching would never stop. Some nights she wondered if forgetting everything and pretending it didn’t happen would have been easier. But she wasn’t stupid. There were things that were absolutely worth remembering.


End file.
